I Should Tell You
by Amy Ehren
Summary: 1980s New York AU. Work as a bartender in the heart of Bohemia wasn't exactly his choice, but in the midst of it all, Fenris meets a man who changes his perception of his situation, and more importantly, of what life means. Slash. Fenris/M!Hawke among other pairings. Rated for language and future content.
1. You Spin Me Round

**A/N:** Hi there guys! So I finally got a new computer! My old one with all my stories and everything was stolen, and I finally got a new one. So I couldn't even update an author's note on _Diamonds and Emeralds _letting everyone know what was going on. ): But my grandpa gave me a PC he doesn't use, and now I can play Dragon Age 2 again! Anyways, this is an idea I had a couple nights ago and knew I absolutely had to write it. It is inspired by, but not based on _RENT_, one of my favorite musicals (technically opera… but that's irrelevant). I already know it's going to be a trilogy. Alrighty, here's the relevant stuff now.

**Universe: **AU, 1980s New York, during the AIDS/ HIV outbreak

**Main Pairing (Part 1): **Fenris/ M!Hawke

**Other pairings: **Isabela/Merrill, mentions Anders/M!Hawke, Aveline/Donnic

**Summary: **1980s New York AU. Work as a bartender in the heart of Bohemia wasn't exactly his choice, but in the midst of it all, Fenris meets a man who changes his perception of his situation, and more importantly, of what life means. Slash.

**Warnings: **Slash, mentions of violence and abuse, language, mentions of drug use

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Bioware, I don't own RENT, and I don't even own a friggin' t-shirt of Dragon Age.

It was a boring job, most of the time. The same slobbering drunks, the mediocre bands trying to make their name at some underground, smoke-filled, disease-ridden bar where the artists spent the little money they could scrounge. Always the same story. It was strange the first day that a regular wouldn't come in, but everyone knew the reason. Half the bar was infected. Hell, half of Alphabet City was infected. The dancers turned strippers, the musicians stuck in the hellhole of a bar, the screenwriters with their cameras that they protected like children. Everyone had their own story yet every story was the same.

It was his story that was different. He didn't come to the city by choice to join Bohemia and the artists. He joined the community when the only place that would hire him was the bar in the heart of the artists. His body was covered in tattoos, after all. When you had a father who was an experimental tattoo artist, you were bound to have some odd ones. What made his so striking was the white ink, the lines of scar-like color that in certain lights seemed to almost glow blue. He had allowed the tattooing for only one reason: should he refuse, his father would lose his temper and beat his sister. His father's addiction was what drove him to find any job he could; he couldn't protect his sister otherwise. His mother had died in labor, and he had assumed role of head of house at an early age.

He refused to share his real name with the patrons who asked. He refused advances, reminding himself that he needed to care for his sister. That excuse was just words now, as his sister had left for college with the money he saved during the first four years of employment. She worked a job herself, applied for scholarships, did everything that would make getting away from her home state possible. Finally, between the two of them, she had enough to make it to California to pursue a degree in business. She had left, but he had stayed at the bar. There were few places likely to hire him with his tattoos, and he would take what he could get.

If that weren't his only deterrent, the bar was the only place where the patrons cared so little about the appearances of the staff that no one commented on what he considered his most embarrassing feature. He had been born with Stahl ear deformity, giving his ears a pointed shape. It embarrassed him, and through school he had been teased, called "knife ear" and "elf boy" by classmates. As a result, he hid his ears under his bleached white hair or a beanie out of habit.

"Corff, who's playing tonight?" he asked, referring to his boss by his last name, as did everyone. He threw his bag under the bar, preparing to organize his favorite space to stand.

"Um, I think the band is called 'Lothering' or something," Corff responded, counting the cash register down to the appropriate amount. "Fenris, did you get a lot of tips last night?"

Glancing up from the glass he was cleaning, Fenris furrowed his brow, trying to remember what the night had been like. "No," he responded slowly. "It was pretty slow since there wasn't a concert crowd last night. I think I made 20 or so." Without a word, Corff walked over and handed him a twenty dollar bill. Fenris looked at his quizzically.

"We've been doing well. Take it and actually eat something, okay?" With a pat on Fenris' shoulders, Corff walked back to the register.

"Thanks," Fenris said softly. Wishing to clear the mood that had just been set, he asked, "What do you know about tonight's band?"

"My girlfriend's brother is the singer, so she begged me to let them play here. I've heard he's pretty good, but she told me the rest of the band is really there because of her brother," he admitted.

"I didn't know Bethany had a brother," Fenris said, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"She's got two, actually. Her older brother is the singer, while her twin brother is the drummer. He's supposedly pretty decent, too, but the older one is the real talent of the band. The guitarist is supposed to be pretty hot, too. Some foreign chick," the bar owner mused, a small smile playing across his lips.

"I'm sure Bethany wouldn't be too pleased to hear you talking like that," Fenris interjected with a snort of laughter. "Do you mind if I open this bottle of wine?" he asked, holding up the bottle. Corff looked at it for a moment, then nodded.

"Don't drink it all, okay?"

With a laugh, Fenris grabbed the corkscrew and opened the bottle, pouring himself a glass, then offering one to his superior. The man laughed and shook his head.

"You know I don't drink wine, Fenris. Only the hard stuff for me. No mixers, either," he said with a cheeky grin.

"Fine, fine," Fenris said, corking the bottle and putting it back. "I won't offer you a drink again, then." He turned away so Corff wouldn't see the small smirk on his face.

"Are you implying that I won't be able to drink from my own bar?" Corff asked indignantly. "I make drinks here, too!" Fenris burst into laughter, shaking his head.

"No, I just meant I won't be the one making your drinks," Fenris chuckled. He turned towards the door as it opened, revealing Corff's girlfriend, Bethany, and two men he could only assume were her brothers.

"Bethy, you never told me your boyfriend had such interesting tattoos!" the one who could only be her twin exclaimed, looking at Fenris in an almost appraising way. Bethany rolled her eyes.

"That's not my boyfriend, idiot," she said, walking up to the bar. Corff walked over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She smiled. "We've got the equipment outside. Mind if we bring it in and get set up so the band can practice before a crowd gets in?"

"Of course," he replied, smiling back at her. Fenris snorted at the two of them, turning his back to them to wipe down the necks of the bottles.

"Excuse me," came from behind Fenris, and he turned around to see the older brother standing at the bar. He raised an eyebrow.

"Can I get anything for you?" he asked, already half-reaching for a glass.

"Could I actually just get some water? I'm gonna need it," he said, smiling crookedly at Fenris. He had dark hair, a stubbly beard, and the most piercing eyes Fenris had ever seen. In true rocker style, there were smudges of black eyeliner, but it looked like he'd had a fight with the pencil and the pencil had won.

"Sure," Fenris said, stifling a laugh. As he handed him his water, he couldn't help but add, "You might want to go look in a mirror before you perform, though. You look like a Klaus Nomi wannabe right now." Bethany's older brother gave him an odd look before setting the glass down on the bar.

"Who exactly are you?" he asked, staring at Fenris. Said man was a bit unnerved by the stare, but held it.

"I'm a bartender," he said simply. The man rolled his eyes.

"I know that, but even bartenders have names. Care to share? Mine's Garrett," he said, fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass.

Before he knew it, he blurted out "Leto. My name's Leto." Silently cursing himself, he must have shown it on his face, for Garrett raised his eyebrows.

"I'm guessing you don't tell many people that," he said slowly. A cheeky smile invaded his face. "I guess it must be my charisma and roguishly good looks that made you tell me."

"No, I don't," Fenris said stiffly. "I'd prefer it if you called me Fenris. I don't want to associate my past life with the life I have now." He turned abruptly away from Garrett.

"Oh come on now, I didn't make you say it. That was all you, my friend," Garrett said. Fenris froze, realizing the truth in his words, but also surprised at the sentiment at the end. He knew it was common, but still, it came as a surprise. With a sigh, he turned back around.

"I apologize for my curtness. I've just never told anyone since I worked here. Well, besides Corff," he admitted, a small smile gracing his face.

"It's all right. We all have our stories, don't we?" Garrett said, offering a friendly smile.

"But all the stories sound the same when you hear them enough. They blur together and become one entity so that you no longer know whose story is whose. I've heard enough pasts that sometimes I forgot my own and took on someone else's," Fenris said. "Mine is not the worst I've heard. Certainly, it was not pleasant, but I was one of the luckier ones."

"Mine sounds like a novel, in all honesty," Garrett admitted. "Mother elopes with a man her parents don't like, moves to New York, and has three children, losing her inheritance to her weasel of a brother." Fenris smiled, grateful that Garret had not asked about his. Garrett's smile fell. "Then father died in Vietnam and now Bethy, Carver, and I take care of mother."

"Why are you telling me this? We met about five minutes ago," Fenris said softly, unsure of how else to respond.

"I don't know," Garrett said honestly. "There's just something about you that I'm drawn to. Something that says I could tell you anything and you wouldn't pretend to like me out of sympathy. I like that in a man," he added, causing Fenris' eyebrows to shoot up. Was he… flirting?

With a wry smile, Fenris leaned over the bar, close to Garrett. "I don't like people, generally. But something about you draws me in," he said, echoing Garrett's statement. "Like I could tell you anything and you wouldn't judge me, or call me a freak, as has been done."

"About your tattoos? Or those ears I can see through your hair?" Garrett asked, and Fenris blushed madly, covering the tips with his hands. "They make you different. And in this Bohemia, where everyone's perception of unique is the same, you're quite the breath of fresh air. You don't seem to live in your past, either."

Fenris chuckled drily. "The past has ways of finding us, even when we don't want it to. It sneaks up on you, delicately working its way into your present, like hands, before it grabs you like a vice and destroys what you worked so hard to build. The past was once our present, and it's bitter at being replaced."

As Fenris turned away, he left Garrett wondering exactly what he had meant before his siblings called him over to help set up. Bethany gave him a small smile as she looked between him and Fenris.

"What do you think of Fenris, hm?" she asked, smirking as Garrett fumbled with the cords. He glanced at her.

"He's interesting," he responded vaguely, his tone of voice making it abundantly clear he didn't really want to say any more. But, of course, as the younger sister, Bethany felt it was her duty to question him.

"Those tattoos are something, huh? Apparently his father was an experimental tattoo artist and he gave those to Fenris when he was 15. It wasn't even his choice," she said softly. Garrett froze and looked at the slender bartender as the said man rolled the sleeves of his leather jacket to his elbows.

"They were forced on him?" Garrett asked quietly, turning back towards his sister. "I can't imagine how humiliating it must have been for him to explain in school."

"Corff said he used to be the brunt of the jokes in his high school. They teased his tattoos, his alcoholic father, and his ears. Poor thing," she said, giving him a sad look.

"I'm not sure he'd appreciate you talking about it," Carver cut in, carrying an amp past them. "And I can't set up the whole damn stage by myself, you—" He was cut off by the noisy entrance of a woman who caused Fenris to look up, shocked anyone could make that much noise coming down a flight of stairs.

"Bela!" Bethany exclaimed, running over to the woman (who had apparently been hitting her guitar case against the wall as she entered). She set down her case, looked around, saw Fenris, and an animalistic gleam appeared in her eyes. Ignoring her band mates, she walked straight towards him.

"Hi there, lovely," she purred, pushing her chest forward.

"Erm, hi," Fenris said nervously, looking anywhere but at her. "Did you want a drink?"

"Oh, honey," she laughed, "I always want a drink. But what I want here is you. Isabela," she said, holding her hand out in greeting.

"Fenris," he returned distractedly, gingerly shaking her hand.

"Oh come on, Isabela, you're making him nervous. Get your tan ass over here," Garrett called, much to Fenris' relief.

With a wink, Isabela turned and walked to the stage where Hawke was setting up. "Don't tell Merrill I did that," she said, loudly enough for Fenris to hear. With a shake of his head, he went back to leaning on the bar, looking around for something to do in the hour before the bar technically opened. Corff came over and gently elbowed him in the side.

"Why don't you show Garrett over there where the soundboard is?" he suggested, a slightly suggestive smirk on his face. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and over the bar, walking over to Garrett.

"We've got a soundboard if you need to take a look at it," he said. Garrett grinned and nodded. "I'll need some help carrying everything out, after I show you how it works."

"I do know how to operate a soundboard, but our sound guy, Donnic, might like to take a look at this later, too," Garrett said.

"Ours is… well, weird. Plus the guy who gave it to us scratched off all the numbers, so hopefully, he's good with levels on sight," Fenris said, leading Garrett through a door next to the bar and down a short hall. He unlocked one of three doors, shoving it open and using his foot to hold the door open. He tugged a chain to switch the light on.

"Did this used to be a cleaning supply closet?" Garrett asked, wrinkling his noise.

"Yeah, how could you tell?" Fenris asked, leaning over to look for the doorjamb.

"Smells like bleach," he said, and Fenris laughed.

"I guess when you work in a bar and get stuck cleaning bathrooms every other night, you get used to the smell of bleach. It's the only reason those things are useable," he laughed, finally finding the rubber wedge and shoving it under the door with what was probably more force than necessary. "Okay, I need you to grab this end of the table and I'll grab the other." Fenris squeezed his way inside the tiny room and grabbed the end of the table the soundboard was situated on. Garrett picked up his end easily, and they maneuvered out of the small room and into the hall.

Uncovering the board, Garrett whistled. "The guy who had this before really did a number on it, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he really did. But at a place like this, you take what you can get," Fenris said with a shrug, pointing out a few of the board's irregularities.

"At least you have one. We've been fucked over by venues that didn't tell us we needed our own. We can't exactly afford one, you know?" Garrett said, studying the board.

"Yeah, I do know," Fenris said softly, staring at his tattooed hand on the sliders.

"Hey, um, do you mind if I ask about the story behind your tattoos?" Garrett asked, wondering if what Bethany told him was true.

"I… don't know you. I am not comfortable telling you. I'm sorry. They were not my choice, though," he said, not meeting Garrett's eyes.

"We're practically best friends, you already told me your real name!" Garrett said jokingly, his laugh fading when Fenris glared at him.

"Do not remind me of the mistake I made. I am not Leto, at least not to you," he growled, startling Garrett.

"Sorry, Fenris, I…" he trailed off and Fenris sighed heavily.

"It is I who should be sorry. I am blaming you for something you had no say in. I'm making my problems yours, and we've known each other for such a short time," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"You shouldn't keep this just to yourself, you know. It's not healthy," Garrett said softly. "I'll listen and offer the impartial ear only someone you hardly know can, if you'd like."

"I… thank you for the offer, but I don't feel I can trust you yet," Fenris replied, pointedly looking at his feet.

"What would it take to make you trust me?" Garrett murmured, stepping closer to Fenris, who was too surprised to take a step back.

"I don't know," he said after a pause. "I've never had anyone want me to trust them before."

"Well, I want to get to know you. You're interesting," he said simply.

"I… I don't have a reason to refuse," Fenris said thoughtfully. Garrett smiled.

"Excellent. Now, let's get this board out there before they think we've either killed each other or are fucking," Garrett said, lifting his end of the table. Fenris started, barely managing to lift his side before the board slid.

"You are lucky that didn't slide. Corff would kill me if I broke it, as well as make me replace it," Fenris said sternly.

"You'd be dead _and_ broke, then. Well that would suck," Garrett laughed, starting to lead out into the main bar.

"Hey, Garrett, can you put the board closest to the amps? I'll get everything hooked up, as long as the cords can reach the connectors on the board," a brown-haired man said. Garrett led Fenris to the specified area and set down the board.

"Donnic, you might want to have Fenris here show you the board. It's kind of totaled," Garrett said, wiping his hands on the front of his dark jeans. He pulled off the cover and Donnic let out a barking laugh.

"That is awful," he said, laughing.

"It still works, but it looks like shit," Fenris said, shrugging.

"I'll say it does." Fenris showed him the workings of the board before going back to the bar. It appeared the other members of the band had arrived while he and Garrett were getting the soundboard.

"Isabela, can I set up my keyboard right here?" The girl's voice was oddly airy, and Fenris could tell she was naïve, but not stupid just from her question.

"Of course, Kitten," Isabela responded, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek. So that must be the Mer-something she mentioned earlier, he thought.

For the first time that night, he heard an instrument playing, and looked over to see an intimidating-looking red-haired woman tuning an electric bass. Unlike the two other women in the band, she wore black pants, where they wore skirts. He made a mental note to steer clear of her, as her combat boots looked like they could crush him instantly. Her striking make-up didn't make her any less fierce, either.

Corff saw the expression on his face and walked over. "Bethany said her name was Aveline. She wanted to be a soldier, but they just started allowing women at the academies a few years ago, so she gave the whole service the bird for not taking her straight out of high school," he said. "Her husband's the sound man, and apparently, the story of how they got together is hilarious."

Fenris gave a noncommittal grunt as he took a sip of his wine that had been sitting on the counter. "She's still scary as hell," he muttered. Bethany came up and took a seat at the bar in front of him.

"So Fenris, how are you doing tonight?" she asked, offering him a smile. He returned the smile, and turned to make a gin and tonic.

"Fine, Bethany," he said, turning back and handing her the drink.

"You know me so well," she said, winking. She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, and leaned over the bar towards Fenris. "You should keep an eye on Garrett. I think he likes you." She pulled back, giggling. Fenris stared at her.

"I…" He couldn't form words, nonplussed.

"Oh come on, how long has it been since you dated anyone?" she asked, playfully patting his arm.

"Um…" Fenris blushed. "I've never dated anyone."

"What?" Bethany shrieked, earning her a few odd looks from the members of the band. Corff, used to it, ignored her. She managed to lower her voice to normal speaking volume. "Why didn't you tell me? You made it sound like you had!"

"I don't like to talk about it," he said, still blushing. "I wasn't really liked, and I don't want my first time to be with a bar patron I may never see again."

"Well, I think you'd like Garrett if you got to know him," she said knowingly. "I know you think he's hot, don't you?"

"Yes," he replied. Bethany raised an eyebrow at his straightforwardness.

"Then get to know him! He thinks you're interesting, you know," she said.

"Yes, I do know. He told me himself, and that he'd like to get to know me," Fenris said with a chuckle.

"He's kind of an idiot sometimes, just as a warning. His sarcasm can be kind of insensitive sometimes," she said, taking a sip from her gin and tonic. She opened her mouth to speak again, but was cut off by the loud feedback from one of the amps. Fenris winced and covered his ears, looking over at the stage, where Isabela was guiltily turning down the volume on her amp.

After a few minutes of tuning and last setup, the band actually began to play something. Fenris tuned them out as he wiped down tables before the bar opened. They generally got a bigger crowd on nights when a band was playing, mostly because band members invited friends, but also because the bar was much less a place to drown the miseries of life on concert nights.

The band started playing about an hour after the bar opened, filling the room with much more noise than the patrons already did. Behind the bar, Fenris was busy mixing drinks for those situated on the stools, rather than at one of the tables, most of which were full. It was good for business, but usually left both he and Corff drained by the end of the night. Concert nights were great for tips, too.

"Hello, starving artists of Alphabet City," Garrett began from the stage, drawing a laugh from the audience. "We are Lothering, and we're gonna start tonight with an oddly ironic song for this audience. I'd like to dedicate this cover of Depeche Mode's Blasphemous Rumours to those who have lost someone, or are currently losing someone, to AIDS." With that, the band began to play, and Fenris, who had finished mixing the last drink that had been ordered, froze, having missed the introduction, as he recognized the song.

He stared at the stage, furrowing his brow. The band wasn't bad, really. When Garrett opened his mouth and sang, though, he commanded the attention of the entire room. Fenris gaped at him. Corff wasn't kidding when he had said Garrett was the real talent of the band. Tearing his gaze away when he felt a tap on his shoulder, he began mouthing the words to what was one of his favorite songs. Unable to help himself, he danced a bit while making the scotch and soda that had been ordered. Looking back at the stage, he saw Garrett looking at him with a smirk. They locked eyes as he sang and Fenris pantomimed the words, a defiance in Fenris' gaze.

"Now I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours, but I think that God's got a sick sense of humour, and when I die, I expect to find him laughing," Fenris said, totally inaudible over Garrett's singing. It really was an ironic song for the crowd, but strangely fitting. His smirk widening, Garrett broke the stare, turning his attention back to the audience as a whole. Coming back to himself, Fenris realized he still held the scotch and soda in his hand and apologetically set it down in front of the customer.

"He's good, huh?" the customer yelled over the sound of the music.

"No kidding!" Fenris replied. This particular man was a regular of the bar, a writer. He tended to serenade people with his poetry, including Fenris. As the song ended, the bar exploded in shouts and whistles. Fenris had never heard a reaction like that to any of their performers, but then they'd never had a band with that much talent.

"We're going to go now to a Blondie song that doesn't really make sense, but what really does in music these days? Rapture, featuring Aveline Vallen on the spoken verses," Garrett said, gesturing to the woman that Fenris had decided to steer clear of. She smiled and her facial features softened, and Fenris was suddenly less intimidated. He wasn't a huge fan of the song, so he began to tune it out while attending to the people who had approached the bar during the break between songs. The bar was beginning to get truly packed, and he was busy through the end of the song.

The band played for an hour before Garrett announced they would be taking a break and playing again in half an hour. The band all made their way to the bar, where the audience, for once, was willing to get off their stools to give them a place to sit. Fenris made their drinks and naturally settled himself in front of Garrett.

"Do you only play covers?" Fenris found himself asking over the chatter.

"No, the second half will be original songs only," Garrett replied. "Our songwriter isn't here tonight, but he writes down the thoughts I can't put into words. Ah, Varric," he said affectionately. "He always seems to know what I'm feeling and exactly how to turn it into poetry. I can't write for shit." He laughed. Fenris smiled in amusement.

"I know the feeling," he said.

"So what do you do besides bartending?" Garrett asked, taking a drink of what Fenris thought was a rather odd drink: vodka, ginger root, ginger ale, and cucumber, but apparently it was good.

"This is my profession," Fenris said, gesturing to the bottles of alcohol on the wall. He suddenly blushed as he sheepishly added, "I like to dance, though."

"Then maybe you should dance with me, sometime," Garrett said, a gleam in his eyes.

Fenris looked taken aback at the suggestion, then blushed, remembering the conversation he'd had with Bethany before the band played. "Perhaps," Fenris finally said, unable to meet Garrett's eyes.

"Aww, Garrett, don't embarrass him!" Bethany had sidled up beside her older brother, chuckling at Fenris' red face. She leaned into Garrett and whispered something that caused him to grin and give her a knowing look.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," Garrett said, and Fenris shrugged.

"I don't mind," he said, pouring himself another glass of the wine he'd had earlier. Before he could lift it to his mouth, Garrett snatched the glass from his hand and took a sip. "I do, however, mind that," Fenris said, reaching to retrieve the glass. "Buy your own." Garrett chuckled and handed him the glass.

"Too expensive," he said simply. As Fenris took a drink, he smirked and said, "We just indirectly made out, you know." Fenris began to cough, choking on the wine that was in his throat. After a moment, he took a deep breath and stopped coughing, his face red from both choking and from embarrassment. His eyes wide, he looked at Garrett with no idea how to respond. He never thought he'd be so grateful to hear Isabela call his name and order another drink, her arm slung around Merrill's shoulders.

"So you and Hawke, hmmm?" she pressed, grinning like a cat.

"Oooh, are you dating him?" Merrill asked, an excited smile on her face.

"Who, Garrett? No, I'm not," Fenris said slowly.

"But you want to be, right? You want him to bend you over this bar," Isabela purred, delighting in how red Fenris' entire face, neck, and ears became. "You definitely want to ride that."

"But what would he be riding?" Merrill asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Hawke's not a horse, is he?"

"Oh Kitten," Isabela said affectionately, kissing her nose, "I'll teach you when we get home." Fenris raised his eyebrows, still blushing, and walked back to his glass of wine. Corff had apparently given Garrett a tequila shot while he was serving Isabela.

"You should probably wait until after you're finished performing to drink any more," Fenris suggested pointedly.

"I can hold my liquor, thank you very much," Garrett said with a grin. "But we should get performing again. I'll be back. Don't go home with any other strange men, beautiful." With a wink, Garrett stood and headed back to the stage. Fenris called Bethany over.

"Does Garrett flirt with everyone like this?" he asked, a little bewildered by how forward Garrett was.

"No, there's only one other person he's ever flirted with like that. Guy named Anders. Don't ask him about it though. They were together for 3 years before Anders left him to get married to some rich bitch," Bethany said, contempt for the man clear in her voice. "That was 2 years ago, though. He's been kind of withdrawn ever since, and he doesn't flirt with people much. He's got good reason, though." She sighed sadly, looking at Garrett with a rueful smile.

"Wow, that's… horrible," Fenris said softly.

"Yeah. They lived together, too, in this studio apartment. Anders used to paint all the time, the walls, canvas, anything he could get his hands on. When he left, Garrett destroyed the apartment in hurt rage, ripping up his paintings, scraping the paint off the walls… I can't believe he still lives there. It reminds him of the betrayal every day, I just know it," she said. "He's needed someone like you to come and erase the memories for him."

"I…" Fenris began, looking to the stage with a new perspective at the man at the microphone. "Perhaps, if he really is interested, something may come of it. I won't deny I'm attracted to him, though I doubt I'm what he needs."

"Hello again," Garrett said from the stage, grinning. "This time, we'll be playing original songs and original songs only, written by our absentee songwriter, Varric Tethras, the man who can take what I spew out and turn it into poetry." A ripple of laughter made its way through the bar. "This first song is called Twelve A.M." Fenris saw Bethany sigh.

"This song was written about a month after Anders left him. He was so depressed. Aveline had to stay with him for days on end to make sure he ate and slept and didn't kill himself," Bethany choked out. Fenris could already feel the emotion in the haunting keyboard introduction.

_It's twelve a.m._

_The clock ticks the seconds away_

_Another moment lost _

_In my miserable mind_

_It's twelve a.m._

_I've felt this all before_

_Every night it haunt me_

_The hands of my internal clock ticking_

_Winding my heartstrings tighter_

_How long until they break?_

Fenris felt his chest tightening at the raw emotion in both the words, and in Garrett's voice. He felt the pain, and suddenly knew that he wanted to make Garrett write about something other than that pain. As the song went on, he remembered the situation with his own father. He realized he knew what Garrett was singing about; he had felt it himself.

_It's twelve a.m._

_I chime with an inaudible pain_

_Which I vomit onto paper_

_Expelling from myself_

_That which always finds a way_

_To return_

_To eat my soul away_

_It's twelve a.m._

_When will the clock stop ticking_

_Stuck at this damned time_

_Stuck in hours of darkness?_

_I wait for the hours to run their course_

_For this ephemeral life to end_

_It's twelve a.m._

_And there is silence._

The song ended with pure, unaccompanied voice, and Fenris felt something inside him break. He sank to his knees behind the bar and buried his face in his hands, his body wracked with sobs. For the first time, he was crying, hit to the core by Garrett's words and the chilling emotion of the music. He didn't notice Corff walk up until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Fenris, you should take a break. Go clean yourself up and get some air, okay? I can handle it," Corff said softly, and Fenris nodded, tears still streaming from his eyes. He quickly made his way to the bathroom, not noticing Garrett's gaze following him.

Gripping the edges of the sink, Fenris took a deep, shuddering breath. He looked up into the cracking mirror and looked at his red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes, at the white hair that hung in his face, at his deformed ears, and at the start of the tattoo. With a growl, he turned and beat the flat of his hand against the wall, leaning his forehead against the white concrete. Every time he looked in the mirror, he was reminded of what his father had done, beyond the physical. Damn the bastard who had taken every chance he had at a normal life.

Sighing, Fenris turned the faucet on and splashed cold water onto his face, leaning over the sink and just holding his face in his hands for a moment. He straightened and turned to tear off a paper towel. He started when he saw Garrett standing just inside the door; he hadn't heard it open.

"Shouldn't you be out there performing?" Fenris asked, cursing the fact that his voice was shaking.

"I always give Isabela a set. She's performing four songs now," he said. Fenris snorted.

"That seems awfully convenient," he muttered.

"Okay, fine, I saw you walk out and asked if she'd do her set now rather than after another few songs," Garrett admitted. He approached Fenris. "Are you okay?" His voice was soft and concerned.

"Bethany told me what the song was about," Fenris said, dodging the question. He wasn't sure of the answer, truthfully. "More accurately, who."

"Oh." Garrett looked down, sighing heavily. "I… it was a hard time."

"I gathered that."

"Really, though, are you okay?" Garrett asked, anxious to get away from the direction the conversation had headed. With a frustrated sigh, Fenris glared at Garrett.

"No, I'm not. I have never cried in my life until now and it's because of someone I just met. Because I realized I understand that pain you sang about, because I had an alcoholic father who left me to fend for myself and my sister and to protect her from his drunken desires by taking her place!" Fenris found himself essentially vomiting words with little control over them in his sudden anger. "He used to beat me and make me sleep with him and then leave the house until the next night, when it would repeat itself. He gave me these tattoos when I was fifteen, _fifteen_, and I didn't want them! I screamed the whole time and he just left me in pain, and I was forced to simply wait every night, listening to the clock chime every hour, just to make sure he didn't hurt my sister! I never cried through any of that, but you, you reach inside me and twist the shield I had built so carefully and make me break down and remember everything he did!" With a choked sob, Fenris violently turned and kicked one of the stall doors, breaking it off its hinges. "I don't know why, but you have made me remember the things I never wanted to," he snarled, his fingers itching to throw something with all of his strength. "Why? Why did you have to show up?"

"I'm… I'm sorry," Garrett said softly, hesitantly reaching out and touching Fenris' forearm. He jerked away from the touch.

"I've told you far too much," Fenris said, sinking to his knees. "I worked so hard to forget, but you make it far too easy to remember." Garrett knelt in front of him.

"People who share pain are drawn to each other. Maybe if you tried your hand at poetry or something it would help? I sing about it," he suggested. To his shock, Fenris moved forward and took his hand.

"How many times did you want to take your own life in your hands?" Fenris asked quietly. He wasn't really expecting an answer; it was a very personal question for someone he had only met earlier that day (even if he had basically yelled his life story at him).

"Almost every day for a year," Garrett finally whispered. "It was the worst pain I had ever felt. I wanted to forget, until Bethany and Aveline made me realize that it was a time to make myself stronger, not to break myself into even smaller pieces. I needed to really remember everything first, though. It was the first step to making myself into a better person."

"You've been through such heartbreak, but you still can laugh at yourself and act as if it never happened," Fenris mused, to which Garrett shook his head.

"I don't pretend it never happened. I turned it into something that proves I am strong," Garrett explained, gently rubbing his thumb along the back of Fenris' hand.

"Is it really that simple, though? What if he were to come back? How would you react?" Fenris asked, struggling to see the benefit of letting himself remember.

"I don't know, Fenris. I'd probably punch him for everything he did. I loved him for a while after he left, then I discovered some things and I just couldn't bring myself to love him anymore. Maybe that means I never really did," he said, getting to his feet and pulling Fenris up. He pulled the slender man into a tight embrace. Fenris was too surprised to shy away from the contact.

"It will never get easier to deal with. What will happen, though, is that you'll find it's less painful over time, as you let yourself remember and see how it turned you into who you are," Garrett whispered, just holding Fenris for a moment before he stepped back. "I should go back out there now. I'll talk to you again after we're done, all right?" Fenris nodded mutely.

After Garrett left, Fenris ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Garrett just seemed to make him _want_ to talk, perhaps because he felt he would understand. Perhaps it was because he hadn't made fun of Fenris, but had instead wanted to become friends with him. Or perhaps it was because he had never been interested in anyone who wanted to hear what he had gone through. It was liberating, to simply let it all out, but also alarming that he hadn't been able to control it. With a sigh, he turned towards the door and went back to his place at the bar.

The band finished out their show and the patrons who had just come for the music began to trickle out, leaving the bar much easier to navigate. Bethany came and sat in front of Fenris again as the band members carried equipment out.

"I saw you leave during the first song. Everything all right?" she asked, gently putting a hand on his arm.

"I think so. I got some… enlightening advice from Garrett," he said. "And accidentally told him everything when he asked if I was okay a second time." He knew Corff had confided most of what Fenris had told him in Bethany. It was a lot to know about a person, and Corff had wanted to get some of it off his chest. After meeting Bethany several times, he finally gave his employer his permission to tell her. To his relief, she had never brought the topic up, and it was nice to have another person to talk to, one who was a little wiser about emotion than Corff was.

"Oh, Fenris… Are you okay with that?" she asked, her eyes full of concern. "He would never tell anyone, but I'm sure you still think he's too unfamiliar."

"I think I am okay with it, actually. He didn't try to push the topic, nor did he suddenly treat me like an invalid," Fenris admitted. "Maybe I wanted someone who would be able to relate to me to know." Bethany smiled.

"I personally think you should get to know him. I'd like to see both of you happy." Her eyes twinkled as she smiled. "I feel like you would complement each other well."

"I wouldn't mind getting to know him," he said, his cheeks tinged pink. "I've never really liked anyone I had a chance with. This is weird, honestly." He laughed, and Bethany patted Fenris' arm before withdrawing the hand she had forgotten was on his arm.

"Hey there, bartender, how about a stiff one?" Fenris turned to see Isabela waggling her eyebrows at him, leaning over the bar. He rolled his eyes and walked over to her. "How about Hawke's stiff one?" She grinned at his blush.

"How about you actually tell me what you want to drink?" he shot back, raising his eyebrows.

"Oooh, getting a little worked up, are we?" She smirked and rested her chin on her hand. "I'll take a sex on the beach, doll face." Fenris snorted.

"I should have known. It would have been either that or a slippery nipple," Fenris muttered, turning to mix it for her. Bracing himself for whatever comments she would throw at him, Fenris handed Isabela her drink.

"I just knew you'd give me sex on the beach," she purred. Fenris smirked as Merrill gently swatted Isabela on the back of the head, having just walked up.

"Bela, it would be nice if you didn't flirt with him," she said in a way that made Fenris wonder if there was anyone that disliked her.

"Sorry Kitten," Isabela replied, offering her glass to her girlfriend. Fenris shook his head and made his way to Aveline and Donnic, who were waving him down.

"Where does your sound board go?" Donnic asked.

"Hold on, I'll be right around to help move it," he said, wiping his hands on his pants. He made his way to the table with the board and started to lift one end.

"We'll carry it, you just show us where to go," Aveline said with a smile. She and Donnic easily lifted the table and followed Fenris back to the storage room. They got it settled and Fenris was closing the door when he heard screams and cheers coming from the bar.

"Oh lord, did Garrett get a Flaming Doctor Pepper again?" Donnic asked, and Fenris stared.

"I've only made that once," Fenris said. "Does he get those often?"

"Unfortunately. He gets drunk easily off of those, too," Aveline said, rolling her eyes. "He thinks he can handle his liquor, but even his sister has him beat there."

"She can handle almost anything, though. I was amazed when she went through as much as she did the night she met Corff," Fenris laughed. He resumed his place behind the bar, turning to Corff. "Did he get a Flaming Doctor Pepper?" Corff nodded, smirking.

"Feeeenriiiis," Garrett called, a pout on his face. "My glass is empty." Fenris raised an eyebrow. Was he really this much of a lightweight?

"And is there something you'd like me to do about that?" Fenris asked, earning a snicker from Isabela and a whine from Garrett. If he wasn't drunk, he was getting there fast.

"Make me a B-52 Gunship, pretty please?" Garrett asked.

"You want absinthe? Are you sure you can handle it?" Fenris raised his eyebrows and Garrett nodded enthusiastically. With a shake of his head, Fenris carefully built the drink, handing to his intoxicated new friend. He downed it quickly and slammed the glass on the bar.

"Don't break the glass or you pay for it," Fenris said threateningly. With a laugh, Garrett leaned over the bar.

"Can I choose how I pay?" he asked, and Fenris turned to face him.

"What?" he said, bemused. With a grin, Garrett grabbed the front of Fenris' tank top and pulled him close.

"Like this," he whispered and pressed his lips to Fenris'. Fenris froze for a moment before pushing Garrett off him, and stumbling backwards and nearly falling.

"You're drunk right now. _Don't touch me_," Fenris hissed, approaching Garrett and reversing the positions they had been in. His face inches from Garrett's, he was seething. "If you touch me again, you are no better than the abusive father I dealt with. _Do. Not. Touch. Me. Without. My. Permission." _With an angry growl, Fenris pushed Garrett back, turning away and walking to the other end of the bar.

"I wouldn't try to talk to him again until you're sober," Corff recommended, denying Garrett his next drink. "Come back tomorrow night and apologize." With a sigh, Garrett nodded and left the bar, his younger brother ready to drive him home. Getting to know him was going to take a while.


	2. Foggy Notion

**A/N: **This chapter is comparatively short (to the last one at least) but I wasn't sure where to take the end of the chapter that wasn't a totally new idea, so I decided to just make this one shorter and not lose cohesion. Also, sorry it took so long… I just got back from LA for KCACTF regionals AND THE SCENE I WAS IN FOR THE DIRECTING COMPETITION WON! With that over, I finally got to sit down and write again. So here's chapter 2… Enjoy!

Universe: AU, 1980s New York, during the AIDS/ HIV outbreak

Main Pairing (Part 1): Fenris/ M!Hawke

Other pairings: Isabela/Merrill, mentions Anders/M!Hawke, Aveline/Donnic

Summary: 1980s New York AU. Work as a bartender in the heart of Bohemia wasn't exactly his choice, but in the midst of it all, Fenris meets a man who changes his perception of his situation, and more importantly, of what life means. Slash.

Warnings: Slash, mentions of violence and abuse, language, mentions of drug use

Disclaimer: I don't own Bioware, I don't own RENT, and I don't even own a friggin' t-shirt of Dragon Age.

That night, Fenris lay in his bed, his mind working furiously. How dare he! How dare Garrett kiss him after everything he'd admitted? What gave him any right to lay his hands on him? Especially when he was drunk and reeked of alcohol. The audacity of some men! With a half-snarl, Fenris turned on his side and roughly pulled his blanket over him.

"God damn it," Fenris growled, throwing his blanket off and standing up. He started pacing mindlessly in the small bedroom, making large, frustrated gestures with his hands. Was it not enough that he had told Garrett everything? Did he have to humiliate him too? Make him feel dirty all over again, like his father had? If he hadn't been drunk, things might have been different, but the smell of beer and rum was just too similar. Fenris shuddered, his arms wrapping around his bare torso as he took a deep, ragged breath.

He began to unconsciously claw at his skin, drawing blood in a few places. The sudden sting alerted him to his actions, and he shakily withdrew his arms, staring down at his hands in disbelief. He hadn't done that to himself for months since he moved out. With a sigh, Fenris made his way to his bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. The diagonal scratches were mostly welts, but a few had broken and slowly bled, tiny rivulets of red dancing around his tattoos.

He reached for a washcloth and soaked it in the lukewarm tap water, gingerly patting the scratches. His stress mechanism was triggering again; this was not a good sign. It had started when his father had started coming home drunk, around when he was 12. The first night his father had been drunk enough to try to get into his bed, Fenris took a scalding hot shower and tried desperately to scrub the traces of the alcohol-laden touches off him to the point where he was clawing at his own skin. That was before the tattoos.

The night he was given the tattoos, he couldn't even move from his bed for the pain. No painkillers were offered, and all he could do was lay on the rough blanket, every move scraping some tattoo line. There was no way for him to lay comfortably; the tattoo snaked over nearly every inch of his skin. It had all been done in one sitting, one drunk, painful, horrible sitting. Fenris had passed out once, hoping to wake up to find it was all over, but when he awoke, he was still being given the tattoos. Once they had healed, Fenris would wake up because he had been scratching at them in his sleep. It gradually became an unconscious thing, and 11 years after the first time he had done it, he had finally been able to stop. Now it was starting again.

With a frustrated growl, Fenris dropped the washcloth into the sink and turned to face his shower. He turned the water on, not caring that he had no hot water, and filled the tub. He slid off his pyjama pants and stepped into the water. The temperature caused his skin to break out in gooseflesh. He sank down, bending his legs and resting his head on his knees. Everything he remembered, what good would it serve? Garrett had said that remembering is the first step to moving on. His jaw automatically clenched at the thought of the singer.

He knew the man had been drunk, but drunkenness was never a justifiable excuse. He had learned that early on; it would always provide a safety net of an excuse. His father would always fall back on it whenever he hurt Fenris. Every time he was sober, he swore he would never do it again, but as soon as the alcohol impaired his judgment, he became the monster. He knew that not every drunk man was his father, and he also knew that not every drunk man was abusive. Some men at the bar would break down when they were drunk and end up sobbing into their drinks, at which point either Corff or Fenris would cut them off, and someone would usually lend an ear to an all-too-familiar plight. But still, the scent of alcohol on a man's breath in his face brought too many memories and accompanying emotions.

With a bitter sigh, Fenris was reminded of the irony of where he worked. Perhaps his sense of security came from Corff and his perceptiveness of when a situation was about to get out of hand. When he thought about his place in life, he would come to the conclusion that he had been exceedingly lucky in finding an employer like Corff. He couldn't imagine his life without the job he worked.

He stayed motionless for another moment, then reluctantly straightened his legs as much as he could in the small bath tub, slowly relaxing and leaning back, his back resting against the edge of the ceramic tub. He sighed and closed his eyes.

Waking up slowly, Fenris stretched out, amazed that he had fallen asleep in the bath tub. The water was as cold as ever, and his muscles were horribly sore from sleeping half-sitting for however long it had been. Standing up with some difficulty, Fenris grabbed his towel and dried himself off, redressing himself into his pyjamas. Glancing at the small clock on the counter, he sighed. Five a.m. He'd been asleep for almost an hour.

He was too tired to let his mind work as it had earlier, so he just threw himself down on to the bed and embraced his pillow, easily falling asleep again.

When Fenris arrived at the bar that night, he was greeted by the sight of Bethany and Corff deep in conversation, and sitting morosely beside them was Garrett. Fenris half made up his mind to tell Corff he wasn't feeling well and go home. His body tense, he made his way behind the bar and put down his bag, pointedly ignoring Garrett. His back to the bar, Fenris angrily wiped down the bottles of alcohol and put them back with more force than was necessary.

"Fenris?" A voice came from behind him.

"What?" Fenris growled, whipping around.

"Err… I was just going to pick up something to eat," Corff said, a little nonplussed. "I was going to ask you if you could count the drawer out to two hundred and if you wanted anything."

"Oh. If you go somewhere with fries, that sounds good," Fenris said with an apologetic smile. As Corff left, his arm around Bethany, Fenris realized he was being left alone with Garrett. He gave the man in question a glance, then turned away. Silence reigned for a few moments.

"I'm sorry."

Fenris sighed and put his rag down and turned to face Garrett. "It does not excuse what happened," he said.

"I know. I just," Garrett paused, taking a deep breath. "I just do stupid things when I drink too much. I had no concept of self-control. I couldn't sleep last night because I was beating myself up for being an asshole." Garrett's hand on the bar twitched as if he were going to reach out but stopped himself.

"Maybe you shouldn't drink so much, then," Fenris said, preventing himself from snapping at him. Something flashed in Garrett's eyes that Fenris couldn't place. If he had to hazard a guess, he would have said pain.

"I have my reasons to drink," Garrett said softly, obviously struggling to keep from glaring at Fenris. "Anders took a lot of me when he left. I don't usually use alcohol to replace it, but sometimes shit gets so hard to deal with that I need it. And then I do even more that I end up regretting."

Fenris sighed heavily, running a hand across his face. "We both have our demons, Garrett," he finally said. "The crux of the matter is succumbing to their grasp, their honeyed touches and sweet words whispered into our minds. Believe me, I know what it's like to give in, but everyone who has their demons must be aware of how they can destroy you and the people around you. Your demons caused mine to stir and forced me into an emotional place I did not want to be in. A place I thought I'd escaped by this time in my life." The initial anger was actually beginning to subside, being replaced by the heaviness of heart that seemed to follow anger all too often.

"Carver says I'm a selfish bastard most of the time," Garrett said, his voice full of a biting self-deprecation. "I have to say, after the debacle I made of myself last night, I'm inclined to agree. I only thought of what the outcome would be for me, not of your reaction."

"I never said you were a selfish bastard," Fenris said with a small groan. "I said you didn't think. That you need more self-control." He leaned forward until he was in Garrett's face. "I won't say I don't blame you, because I think that you are mostly at fault, but it is not an impossible thing to forgive. You would not have known that I would react as I did because we had only just met. My anger blinded me to what you would and would not know. I could not expect you to know me well after a few brief conversations." Garrett was looking at Fenris with a hopeful expression on his face.

"Then… you think that this," he gestured between the two of them, "could have possibility of at least being a friendship?" Fenris had to suppress a small smile at Garrett's expression; he looked like a kicked puppy.

"I think that if we tread carefully, then yes, a friendship is a possibility for now," he replied, cautiously placing a hand on Garrett's arm. "I have not forgiven you yet, but I am giving you a chance to prove to me why I should." Garrett smiled.

"Then how about to start, I take you to coffee tomorrow before you work? I'd like to just sit and talk for a while," Garrett suggested. After a thoughtful moment, Fenris nodded. As he pulled his hand away, Garrett gently gripped Fenris' wrist. "Thank you," he said, releasing it.

The rest of the night was uneventful. There was no concert crowd, so the night's patrons were the usual men and women who made the bar one of their regular haunts. Garrett stayed through most of the night, drinking water and soda (mostly because Fenris flat-out refused to serve him alcohol, to which Corff and Bethany agreed quickly), and carrying on snippets of conversation with Fenris when he wasn't busy serving other customers.

During the course of the night, they decided to meet at one of the Starbucks near the bar. They were starting to really take over some of the smaller coffee shops, as Garrett pointed out, and would likely be the most comfortable place for them to just sit and talk. Fenris agreed.

Standing in the Starbucks line, Fenris felt vaguely uncomfortable. The coffee shop was loud, but not terribly crowded, given that not many people were drinking coffee at 4 in the afternoon. As he got to the front of the line, he realized that he had no idea what to order. A little nonplussed, he opened his mouth to ask what the barista recommended, but was cut off.

"Two white mochas," came from over Fenris' shoulder and he turned to glare at the asshole who had butted his way in, and saw Garrett. The indignation faded, but he still gave a glare for good measure. The barista looked at Fenris, unsure what to write down.

"He's with me," Fenris assured the confused worker, who shrugged and gave the order to his coworker. As Fenris reached for his wallet, Garrett smiled.

"I'll get it," he said, to which Fenris nodded with a small smile. "Sorry I'm a little late, by the way."

"It's all right. I obviously wasn't waiting for a long time, as I was still in line," Fenris assured him, feeling himself relax just a little. "Where do you want to sit?"

"How about by the window there?" Garrett gestured to a small table by the front window, and Fenris made his way over to it. Taking a seat, he put his small bag next to the chair and pulled his rolled up sleeves down to his wrists. It was fairly cold in the coffee shop.

When the coffees were ready, Garrett came and joined him at the table, handing Fenris the warm cup. Holding it with both hands, Fenris took a tentative sip. It was hot, and kind of burned his tongue, but it tasted good. He made a face of approval and looked up at Garrett, who was watching him expectantly.

"Like it?"

"Yes, actually," Fenris replied, offering him a genuine smile.

"Good! I found it's pretty foolproof, even if it is sweeter than a lot of people like their coffee," Garrett said, taking a drink of his own. "It's been my favorite kind of coffee for a long time."

"I don't like overly bitter coffee, though. Corff always laughs at me when I make coffee at the bar because I add so much sugar and cream," Fenris chuckled. "I just don't like bitter foods in general, though."

"What kinds of food do you like?"

"I really like Thai food. A lot of it is a little too spicy for me, but I love what I can handle," Fenris said with a smile. "But I would probably eat about anything you put in front of me."

"My sister loves Thai food, too. Carver will hardly eat anything, though. It made my job as family cook a lot harder," Garrett laughed. "I'm definitely not a picky eater. If I had my choice, though, I'd go for Greek food. It's delicious."

"I don't think I've ever tried any Greek food," Fenris admitted, trying to think of anything he'd ever eaten.

"Gyros? Falafel? Tabouli salad?" Garrett tossed out suggestions, to which Fenris repeatedly shook his head. Looking mock-affronted, Garrett put a hand on his hip. "Well, we need to get you to a gyro vendor. It's good. You're not a vegetarian, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Fenris snorted, trying to imagine himself not eating meat for the rest of his life. "I'm skinny enough as it is, I need the protein."

"Good. I mean, there's a lot of good vegetarian Greek food, but the meat is amazingly good," Garrett said, rubbing his stomach as if just thinking about it made him hungry. "The spices that are used for shawarma and the gyros are just…" Garrett closed his eyes and made a contented humming sound. Fenris laughed.

"Sounds like you just need good food and you're set," he laughed, taking a drink from his coffee.

"Well, yeah. Good food, good company, and a bed to sleep in. That's really all I ask from life, especially nowadays," Garrett said, smiling. Fenris could have sworn he saw the smile falter for a split second, but thought nothing of it. "But to me, most food is good."

"I have to agree with you there. When you're not exactly living the luxurious life, you have to take what you can get." Fenris shrugged. "I'm not a picky eater, though, so that makes it a whole lot easier for my budget."

"I don't have to worry about rent anymore, I actually bought the place that I live in," Garrett said with a satisfied smile.

Fenris looked over at him, biting his lower lip. "Is that… the place you lived in with…" He felt guilty asking, but he was curious.

"With Anders?" Garrett asked, pursing his lips and sighing. "Yeah. It is. I've changed it, though, so that it's not just a place that has memories of him." He looked at the floor and sipped his coffee.

"Sorry I asked," Fenris said softly. Garrett looked up at him and offered an understanding smile.

"No, it's fine. I've… well, I've moved on as much as I ever will." He swirled the coffee in its mug, letting a somewhat tense silence settle.

"Do you still love him?" Fenris wasn't sure where the question came from, but he couldn't help asking. "You don't have to answer that," he added when he thought about how personal that question really was. He remembered that Garrett had actually answered that question the first night they had met, and felt increasingly stupid.

"I don't hate him, if that's what you're asking. I still love him in a different way than I did. Even with the way he hurt me, he was such a huge part of my life that to hate him would be more poisonous than accepting that his love and my love for him turned me into who I am, and so I guess I'd say I still love him as a friend. If he came back, I would turn him away. I don't love him the way I used to, in any case," Garrett said. Fenris was surprised that he answered so frankly. "I told you, I'm interested in you, Fenris. You should know these things, even if I wouldn't normally talk about them. But then, I do get accused of wearing my heart on my sleeve a little too much." He smiled sadly. "I know I said I didn't love him, and it wasn't a lie. I don't love him in the way you asked."

"That's not a bad thing," Fenris assured him. He reached out and put a hand on Garrett's arm. "I've never fallen in love, so I can't say I understand how you feel. I do know what it's like to love someone as a friend, though." He smiled at Garrett, patting his arm and withdrawing his hand.

They both sat without speaking, simply drinking their coffees.

"So what did you think of my band's music?" Garrett asked, a roguish grin on his face.

"How did your coffee date go?" Bethany asked, sitting on the couch in her brother's flat with a mug of tea. Garrett turned from making his coffee and rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't a date, Bethy," he said. "It was him giving me another chance to not be a fuck-up."

"Fine. Well, how did it go?" she grinned at him and he grinned back.

"It was good! We got to know each other a lot. Like, I now know he likes Thai food, has never had Greek food, thinks that people who wear sunglasses at night are douchebags unless they're blind, and wants to teach dance someday," he said, sitting down next to his sister.

"Wow, I don't know if Corff even knows that much. I mean, they're friends, but mostly in a boss and employee kind of way. Good for you!" she said, playfully elbowing Garrett in the ribs. "I was gonna ask if he got a chance to talk with the amount you like to talk about yourself." She gave him a sly grin, and he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Actually, he did ask about Anders," he said, trying to maintain a cheerful attitude. Bethany raised her eyebrows.

"How did you feel when that happened?" she asked, putting an arm around his shoulder. He leaned his head on her shoulder.

"It wasn't bad, actually. He asked if I still loved Anders, and I really had to think about it. I think I love him the way I would love a friend. I could never hate him, you know? Even though… well, he was just a big part of me and he helped me become who I am," Garrett said softly, leaning into Bethany when she began to absentmindedly play with his hair.

"I'm guessing you haven't told him about..." she trailed off, afraid to say it.

"Of course not! I'll tell him eventually, just… not yet. Not until… well, not until it's gotten to the point where it will be an issue," Garrett said, forcing a bitter smile.

"I think you should tell him sooner, actually. Don't wait until you're about to have sex. Once you feel like you trust him enough and know him well enough that he's not going to go running, okay? Telling him will show him that you trust him and it will probably be the make-or-break factor. If he really does fall for you, then he won't let it push him away," Bethany murmured, pulling her brother into a hug.

"Yeah, you're right. It's just not something you can bring up in any old conversation. 'Hello, how are you, I'm fine, thanks, isn't the weather lovely, I have HIV, how's the family…' It's not very light talk, Bethy," he said, sighing heavily.

"I know. It's hard to talk about, but you need to. Carver, Aveline, Varric, and I are the only ones who know, and there will come a time when you have to tell everyone else that the reason you were so suicidal when Anders left you is because he infected you. I can't believe he didn't tell you he was positive," she muttered angrily. "I know it's a grim prospect, but you're going to reach a point where you can't hide it."

"I know. I just… I don't know what I'm going to do when I get to that point. I'm going to leave you and Carver behind, as well as mother, and Aveline, Isabela, Varric, Merrill, and even Donnic. Remember when he thought I was interested in him? And then that I was trying to get closer to Aveline through him?" Garrett couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes! That was such a ridiculous situation. I'm glad they're happy together, though," Bethany said with a smile. "By the way, when are you and Fenris going to get together again?" She grinned mischievously.

"I invited him to go out with all of us tomorrow night, actually. He said he would ask Corff for the night off, but only after I promised I wouldn't get too drunk."

"You'll only be able to drink maybe two shots, then, lightweight." She ruffled Garrett's hair affectionately.

"I know. I was trying to impress him by drinking a lot the other night, and that backfired," he grumbled. "Plus I had a monster hangover the next day. Don't let me be that dumb again, please."

"You know I'm looking out for you. Plus I want you and Fenris to get together. I think you'd be an adorable couple," she half-squealed. Garrett raised his eyebrows and she just smiled. "Plus I want you to date someone else. You haven't dated anyone since Anders, right?"

"No. I didn't meet anyone I really wanted to, because they weren't like Anders," Garrett sighed. "But I'm past that now. I'm really attracted to Fenris. He's interesting."

"Interesting? That's the best word you could come up with?" Bethany snorted, taking a long drink of her tea. Garrett gave her a pointed look.

"What, do you want the shallow answer, too? I was trying to not sound like a total twat by just saying I think he's sexy and kind of damaged," he said. Bethany turned and stared at him critically.

"'Damaged?'" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way! Everyone around here is damaged in some way, but with him, I don't feel like it's destroyed him. I think he's been hurt a lot and instead of just falling apart he's kind of taped himself back together. He needs someone to take the care of really helping him put himself together," Garrett explained. "Even if I can only do that as a friend, I want to help him."

"I don't want you to end up not being able to, though," Bethany said, giving him a concerned look. "Some people want to be able to fix themselves on their own, and won't let anyone in to help. Just because you benefited from other people being there for you doesn't mean he will. Don't be too surprised if he shuts you out, no matter how close you might get."

"I know," he sighed, leaning into his sister. "But I can still offer to listen, and if he opens up, great. If not, it's not a huge deal."

"I'm glad you see it realistically," she responded with a soft smile. "Where are we going tomorrow night?"

"I dunno, I was thinking maybe we could just go to the Life Café or something," he said with a shrug.

"You nearly got us all kicked out of there last time we were there!" Bethany snorted, playfully elbowing Garrett in the ribs.

"That was an accident! I kept bumping into that waiter, it wasn't like I wanted him to spill food everywhere," Garrett laughed. "Besides, hot soup on your head hurts." He crossed his arms and tried to look angry, but broke into a grin when Bethany raised an eyebrow at him. "It does!"

"I'm sure it does," she said almost nonchalantly, finishing her mug of tea and setting it down on the coffee table in front of her. Her cool attitude was belied by her smile. "It was funny for the rest of us, though."

"Nice to know my pain is your laughter," Garrett said, playfully pouting. Bethany smacked his arm.

"Come on, you crack up every time someone trips in front of you!" she exclaimed indignantly.

After a moment of almost thoughtful silence, he grinned and said, "Yeah, I do. I guess it's cause I was always getting hurt as a kid that it's nothing more than entertaining for me now to trip and scrape up a knee or stub a toe or whatever."

"I don't know how many times we had to take you to the hospital when I was growing up. I still remember how mad mom was when you put the pieces of sponge up your nose when you were twelve. The doctors just laughed, and you were freaking out," she laughed. Garrett blushed a little.

"Well, it smelled nice because mom had just washed it and so I thought putting it up my nose would be a good idea!" he mumbled defensively, clearly embarrassed. "I tried to forget about that little incident, thank you very much."

"Between Carver and I, you're never going to forget," Bethany said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"And mom always thought _I _was the troublemaker!" he said, crossing his arms.

"You were, stupid," she replied good-naturedly.

"Not anymore, now it's you and Carver. Damn twin sense or whatever you two have," he said, turning and tickling his sister's sides. She squealed and began to try to wriggle out of his reach. He easily caught her and she let out a laughing scream.


End file.
